Alex Rider Search and Salvation
by S.T. Nogh
Summary: When a friend and loved one is found dead, Alex has to stop having a conscience and go for the kill, willingly putting his life in grave danger.
1. THE MONSTER OF THE NIGHT

_Alex knew, he hadn't even seen the body up close but yet he knew. A mixture of feeling sick, pain and an unbearable remorse filled him; he closed his eyes, and tore himself away from the room. A bad dream? He opened his eyes and looked back, no! It was no dream; there would be no waking up and finding himself met by her caring face. He hated the thought of it, tears streamed down his face and splashed onto the floorboards of his hallway. He collapsed onto his knees and found himself short of breath._

_He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and called._

'_Hello, the Royal and General bank.' The soft voice said on the end of the line._

'_This is Alex Rider give me Blunt.'_

'_There is no Blunt here, Mr Rider.' _

'_DO IT!' Alex exploded in a rage of anger. 'Tell him Jack's dead.'_

Chapter One

The Monster of the night

'_Nothing he could have done..._'

'_Already dead..._'

The bed was hot and Alex was restless.

'_How did she die_?'

'_Strangled, it seems_...'

Alex sat up and flung himself from underneath the covers.

'_She was alone, the boy was out.'_

'_No sign of forced entry, she must have let him in...'_

'_Trusted the man who killed her.'_

Alex was sweating all over, he stood in nothing but his boxers, the in centre of his room it was the middle of December and he was sweltering.

'_Was she seeing anyone?'_

'_Left no mark...'_

'_No footprints, fingerprints, no drinking glasses, therefore no saliva.'_

'_He came, he killed, he went, no mark, monstrous.'_

The voices constantly roamed his head, mocking him, twenty four hour, even in his rare moments of sleep.

'_The monster of the night?'_

'_He can't be caught.'_

'_And the boy? Where will he go? Will they take him?'_

'_No, they are washing their hands of him, out grown his uses.'_

'_Drugs, depression, he's fitter than ever physically, but mentally, he's unstable, they can't have him, he'd endanger any operation, he's single minded now, revenge is his only desire. His school work's slipping, he's only fourteen and he's seen more death then I have and I work in a morgue. This one, is one too many, he's snapped, off the rails, look into his eyes and you'll get chills, the boy is out of control...'_

'Alex?' The woman's voice spoke, but it seemed distant to him, a smell of peppermints filled the room. 'Alex? What wrong?'

Alex approached his window in front of him and looked out onto the street below. 'Nothing.' He replied dryly.

She didn't believe him, despite knowing him for months; Mrs Jones could tell exactly what was on his mind. 'Okay, If you need anything, I'll be downstairs.'

'Fine.' Alex turned and saw her in his doorway, despite being only slightly dressed he did not feel embarrassed, he felt what he always did, nothing. Nothing but a constant hunger for vengeance, to take control of his out of control life and to find him! "The Monster of the Night." Very theatrical thought Alex. It was dark but he could still feel Mrs Jones' eyes scanning him, for anything.

'Anything else?' He asked expecting her to leave his room.

'No, thank you.'

Alex waited patiently for her to leave, she didn't. He snapped. 'What are you looking for?'

Despite his obvious anger, Mrs Jones seemed unfazed, she simply replied. 'Hope.' Before stepping out and closing the door gently behind her.

The classroom was loud, but Alex didn't mind, it allowed him to hide in the corner and look out the window, counting down the hours until he could legally leave. He was on the second floor of the English block and was staring out across town. He looked down momentarily to see if he was still being watched, he was.

Ever since Jack had died and he had started behaving "unusual" he had been watched, by a man in a black suit, with dark sunglasses, sitting in a Mazda, he did not officially knew, but he concluded that it was Blunt's men keeping tabs on him. The slightest school ground fight and they would jump in; truant and they'd pick him up. The man was outside his house even at night, which made his _investigation_ so much more difficult.

He was miles away when he heard her voice. Her name was Emily and she sat in front of Alex, she had long dark hair and a sweet smile, she was in all honesty gorgeous, recently they had spent a lot of time together.

'Alex, you okay?' She asked waving her hand in front of his eyes trying to get his attention.

He turned to her and smiled. 'Yeah, you?'

'Yes thanks, I had a great time the other night, I hope you did?'

'It was alright.' He replied with a cheeky smile.

She blushed. 'Listen my parents are out this weekend, maybe?'

'Perhaps.' He gave a wink.

'One question though, where do you go at two o'clock in the morning.'

Alex smiled.

He remembered that night last Saturday; he'd stolen Mrs Jones' I.D. when she had slept round at his place that night, to keep an eye on him and popped round to Emily's, waited until she was asleep before going for a hunt. Blunt and his men had nothing on Jack's murders or none that Alex could find at their offices, they had no trace of it, but Alex on the other hand had left plenty, an assaulted security guard in intensive care and plenty of C.C.T.V footage. Mrs Jones knew what he had done but she hadn't mentioned it.

'Emily, If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.'

Emily smiled. 'You're so mysterious.'

Alex smiled back and looked deep into her eyes, gently touching her hand with his. 'That's me.'

The bell rang, Alex kissed her hand gently and before climbing from his chair and left the room in amongst a group of other students, hade he looked back at Emily he would have seen her turn a shade of almost purple. _Charmer _Alex thought, before allowing himself a dull unfulfilled smile.


	2. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Chapter Two

Beauty and The Beast

'How is he?' Alex asked whilst playing with a piece of unbuttered brown bread.

'Who?' Mrs Jones muttered in response, from across the breakfast bar, her head buried in The Daily Telegraph.

'That security guard, the one who got assaulted you mentioned him.' Alex lied.

'I don't remember mentioning him to you.' She looked up and stared into his dark brown eyes.

Alex held her gaze. 'Well is he ok?' He asked with a hint of arrogance in his voice.

'Well whoever did it was, stupid, the security guard has given us a lead.'

'Really?' Alex was unconcerned.

'Yes, a very clear lead.'

'The attacker will strike again.'

'I hope not. For his sake.'

Alex smiled, ate his toast dry before picking up his school bag and heading to the doorway.

'Alex.' Mrs Jones called after him. 'whoever is doing these things is not helping our investigation, we are doing all we can.'

Alex did not turn to face her. 'How far have you got?'

'I'm sorry I really can't say.'

Alex left the kitchen and into the hall, he listened to the sound his footsteps made on the wooden floorboard, he stopped turned and looked into the study. There she was, lying on the blood-soaked carpet, a lump came to his throat, he clenched his fist, took a gulp of saliva wetting his dry throat and turned away.

'He'll continue.' Alex stated before heading out the door.

Alex pulled through the school gates at tremendous speed, on his modified racing bike, slowing only to avoid a small year seven girl. He smiled to himself slightly; he had been biking full out since leaving his home and did not feel even the slightest out of breath. He had always believed he was not in bad shape, but now he was... something else. And he'd prove it, today!

He strolled purposefully through the playground, he had recently developed an arrogant sway about him and felt fully confident around everyone, it almost felt like he owned them. He caught the eye of a cute blonde girl from the year above and gave her a brief pleasant smile. She'd get more later when she was not being held by a bull of a boy.

The bull was roughly six foot two, looked strong like a rugby player, had short hair and a gold ring in his ear. Alex made eye contact with him to, but looked instead sinisterly at the bull and gave a twisted smile. The bull grunted through gritted teeth, but did not react. Alex strode on, thinking of how he might be able to frustrate and annoy the bull to the point of conflict. He needed conflict; he recently had found himself having urges for it. Action, excitement, any feeling then what he always felt. Whether awake or asleep, no matter what environment or activity, climbing stairs or climbing a cliff face, he felt it in his soul. Nothing. Nothing but a shadow, a demon which seemed to linger inside of him. A demon which he struggled to keep hold off, Alex knew, with his athletic and ability in martial arts, the demon was a force, able to overcome most foe. Since the demon's awakening Alex had grown one with it, a whole left by Jack's death had been filled.

The bell rang and Alex headed off to lesson.

Alex Rider's day is divided into three lessons, each lasting one and a half hours. Two in the morning before a lunch break, before a final lesson in the afternoon. That morning Alex had stat politely through Geography and English, whilst the demon purred hungrily in his soul. It wanted feeding. Despite Alex constant absences from school he maintained a solid group of friends, mostly guys. He was surrounded by them, bored by their constant chatting of Football, page three models and video games and he beginning to drown their drone out. Alex was not hungry he had a half eaten burger on his plate and a portion of untouched chips. He nodded, pretending to listen and be partially be interested in the conversation when he looked up. He saw the bull's blonde girlfriend strolling across to a full table where her boy friend and his equally muscular friends sat. She stood beside the table hoping for a seat to become available, she tapped the bull on his shoulder, hoping for a kiss or hug, or at least some sign of affection. There was none, in fact the bull dismissed her and had Alex been able to hear them over the noise of the hall he would have heard him telling her that he had rugby practise and she should do one!

The bulls got up and left her alone and looking miserable, she sat now, alone, on an empty table and fiddled with her fingers. A couple of months ago Alex would have felt sorry for her and would have wanted to do some sort of comforting or even just say hello. But that Alex Rider was gone, all he sensed now was an opportunity, he smiled and climbed from his seat.

He approached her table and sat down opposite her. 'Hello sad eyes, what got you down?' He began and looked deep into her eyes.

She half smiled and looked down at her feet. 'Nothing, It don't matter.'

Alex however reached across and grabbed her hand. 'I like to think of myself as a smart guy, good looking one too, but also smart.' She half smiled and glanced up. 'But there's one thing I don't understand. Do you know what that is?'

She shook her head and swept blonde streaks of her hair out of her face.

'Why are you wasting your time, with such a loser?'

She spoke without conviction and there was emptiness to her reply. 'No, no he's a good guy and he loves me.'

'Tell you recently?'

She looked taken aback and replied sternly. 'It doesn't have to be spoken just felt! And what business is it of yours anyway!' She went to get up but Alex was quicker placing a firm hand on her shoulder and forced her back down.

'Not at all, just that If i was with you I'd tell you every waking second, what's your name?'

She smiled and blushed at Alex's remark. 'Michelle, but people call me Beauty.'

'Well they got that right.'

She smiled and looked away, licking her lips slightly.

'So what kind of stuff you into Beauty?'

'What like hobbies?'

Alex nodded.

'I've always had a fascination with bikes.'

'Really?' Alex answered surprised and an idea sprang to mind. 'Want to see mine?'

A few minutes later they found themselves at the bike shed looking at Alex's custom made bike.

'I thought you meant, a motorbike, should have thought you were too young to drive.'

'Silly Beauty, I should have clarified shouldn't I?'

'Oh I don't care, shame you could have taken me for a ride.'

'Well it's never to late.' Alex said, moving closer and pulling her towards him. Despite being a year above she was the same height as Alex and their eyes were perfectly aligned, she closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her. She felt his hands move from her hair and down to her bum. She quite enjoying it until he was pulled away, or rather thrown off!

It was her boyfriend towering over Alex who laid on his back on the floor. He looked worried.

Alex felt pain in his arse and lower back but was if anything enjoying the pain, it helped him focus. Alex saw a flash of silver as the bull pulled out a knife. He heard beauty call for help, he glanced at her and saw tears coming to her eyes as she called again. The bull turned away too and Alex pounced on the distraction. The demon inside him purred, he was too be fed.

First sweeping the bulls feet away from underneath him and fall helplessly backwards. The demon then performed a kip up, landing cleverly on it's feet and started kicking at the bull viciously at the bulls stomach and kidneys. It continued the onslaught and somewhere it heard in the distance some call for him to stop. It didn't, it could not. It felt a hand on it's shoulder but it only pushed it away with force. The demon pulled the beast to his feet and dragged him over to a close by wall, and began slamming his face against it, using all his strength and then some more undiscovered strength, a crunch as the bulls nose broke then another. Then the demon was in the air lifted upwards by two strong men in balck suits and black sunglasses they dragged Alex away from the blood soaked scene. Alex tried to fight them off but couldn't, he glanced back at the scene and found that groups of students and teachers were rushing towards the bull. Some looking back at Alex shocked, saddened but the only face he noticed was beauty's it was fear as gripped her cut knee, she must have tried to stop him, he must have pushed her away.

It was Beauty and the Beast, Alex thought while being dragged away, she was the beauty and he was defiantly the Beast, in the distance he heard the sirens of a fire engine. He felt The Demon fade away into the shadows of his soul, sleeping but for how long? Alex wanted it back, the power the demon brought for there was much work to be done.


	3. THE INTERROGATION ROOM

**CHAPTER THREE**

**The Interrogation Room**

The sun was setting over London, as the clock struck seven. Alex had been alone for four hours. At one he had been taken from his school and been dumped into the back of a Mazda and been driven away, on the way to the car they must of injected him with something because before he knew it he was asleep. He'd woken up there, in a dull grey room with only one window, a blackened one looking in on him from the next room, an interrogation room? The police maybe it wasn't Blunt keeping an eye on him after all, but the police? Maybe the security guard had given them a lead, him!

Alex sat back in his chair and cursed under his breath, then again louder. He cursed due to frustration, a throbbing sensation in his neck and due to the fact that he was hungry. Should have eaten all his lunch first. In the room there was a table in front of him and four chairs, two on either side and one of which he was sitting on, he lent forward onto the table and ran his fingers through his hair. He turned and looked into the blackened glass, no doubt he was being watched.

'Anyone going to say hello.' Alex began, the glass just starred back at him. 'No greetings, not even a biscuit! Very poor.' Alex continued. 'Okay I think I'll be heading off now.' Alex rose from his chair and headed for the door behind him, locked; he wasn't surprised. He turned on his heels and began to stroll around the room. He turned once again to the glass and approached it. 'Hello, listen I'm very sorry for my bad behaviour at school today.' Alex said in a sarcastic manner. 'I know i should have revised better for maths!' He let out a laugh. The glass stared back, unconvinced by his humour. 'Oh come on a little play ground tiff, I went easy on him.' He turned away. 'He had a knife, it was self defence!' He backed away from the glass and approached a chair and began rocking it back and forth with his hand. 'Anyway, all in the past now, very sorry, may I please leave.' Nothing, there was no movement and no door opened.

'Okay.' Alex muttered before grabbing the chair with a firm grip, picking it up and launching it at the glass, it connected with a loud echoing boom but simply bounced off. Alex sighed approached the glass and saw no scratch or fault on the glass. 'Very nice, triple pained? Quadruple pained, no expense spared eh?' Alex sat back down on one of the three remaining upright chairs. 'Could someone check the Chelsea score for me?'

*

It had just turned nine o clock when someone came into speak to him, Alex had not noticed the door open. Alex was starving he had tried phoning for a pizza but found his phone (which he was surprised he still had) had no reception. He had taken his school blazer off and had placed it on the table and was resting his head on it, when a familiar face came in.

Mr Blunt looked as boring and bored as ever. Wearing his tired black suit and glasses and his grey hair combed to one side. He had picked up the fallen chair and had placed it neatly back in it's place but had not seated himself, he instead chose to stand opposite Alex and stared deep into his eyes.

When Blunt had first met Alex there had been a freshness to him, a bounce and life that came with youth, but now despite being only a few months older, things had changed. He looked worn, his hair had rather less shine his skin looked weak and uncared for, but his eyes where what Blunt noticed most and were what chilled him to the bone. They were dead, there was no sparkle, recent events had destroyed him, this young man's soul was in tatters. They remained together in silence for a few moments before Alex broke it.

'Good evening, Blunt. Are you fed?' Alex looked up and analysed the man. 'Because I'm starving.'

Blunt didn't respond to the statement, instead he brushed it aside and began a new topic. 'Alex, you really do astound me.' He began in his usual done tones. Upon noticing Alex's surprise to the statement he continued. 'That's not a compliment.' Blunt began walking before circling the table and Alex. 'Today you did a very foolish thing. And the chances are in the last couple of weeks you have done at least one other, which I know has come to your attention, nevertheless, despite having at least one GBH conviction to your name, you can escape punishment by doing one of two things.' Blunt didn't wait for Alex to answer he just continued. 'First, you can stop your little Action Man investigations and leave it to the professionals. Second, you can apologise to _both _of your victims and we shall see that you get off scot free. Interested?'

Alex sat up and thought. 'Couldn't you just send me off on some insanely dangerous, high risk, low success rate mission and I can save the world once again?' Alex asked in an unenthusiastic manner.

'No.' Blunt replied simply. 'Your working days are over, we need someone we can trust, you're no use now.'

'Is that because you can't hold her over my head, she's dead Blunt! The dead don't have Visa troubles do they? No your smart you'd already be aware of that!' Alex snapped back, rising to his feet.

'Sit down now.' Blunt replied not however raising his voice.

'Go to hell. Let me go!'

'Silence.'

'Fuck off Blunt!'

'Sit down or I'll make you sit!' Blunt replied shouting this time.

'I'd like to see you try. You've seen what I can do, you don't stand a chance old man.' Then there was silence. Just the noise of Alex panting as he regained his breath.

'Your right, Alex. I am weak and feeble, I cannot make you sit, I don't have the strength.' Blunt turned to look at the glass and nodded. He walked past Alex and to the door. 'I'll see that you're released and who knows maybe you won't end up in a Young Offenders institution.'

'Good, I won't! And bring some food.' Alex replied sternly, clenching his fists.

Blunt waited by the door until it was opened. There a man in a black suit and glasses pulled out and stun gun and shot it at Alex; who collapsed helplessly back into his chair.

'Goodnight Mr. Rider.' Blunt said as dull and emotionless as ever as the door closed, leaving Alex once more alone and unconscious.


	4. NIGHTMARE

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**NIGHTMARE**

It was midday when Alex awoke, resting, thankfully, in his warm bed. They'd released him, apparently, and let him return home. Home? Alex had once thought that it was the people that made a house, a home. If that were true, then Alex had no home.

Alex climbed out of bed and found that he was still dressed, in yesterday's school uniform. It was then that Alex caught a sight of himself in the mirror, which rested against his wall. He looked much the same as he always had. Long tangled, bleach blond hair, slim and toned body and narrow piercing eyes. But, he lacked something. Alex pulled himself away from the mirror and left the room. It was Saturday – Alex's favourite day. He'd usually wake up to the smell of bacon and pancakes, although the bacon was usually burnt, much to Jack's annoyance. It was that very smell, burnt bacon that Alex missed.

Alex went downstairs and into the kitchen. Mrs Jones was sitting with a cup of tea in hand and a newspaper open on the table in front of her. A packet of Co-Co pops, was all that awaited him. Something turned in his stomach, a profound sadness that he quickly squashed and was replaced, even quicker than it was born, by rage.

'Morning.' He muttered taking a seat across the table to Mrs Jones.

'And to you, Rocky.'

'How's the kid?' Alex asked opening the cereal.

'He has a broken nose and several deep cuts. He cried a lot.'

Alex smirked as he poured the cereal into the bowl.

'You're lucky not to be getting expelled.'

'Depends how you define "lucky."' Alex replied, looking now for the milk.

'We're out.' Mrs Jones added, sensing the item which he searched.

Annoyed Alex asked. 'How long are you actually going to be here?'

'Until we can find a foster home for you.'

'You can shove your foster homes where the sun doesn't shine.'

After his outburst, Alex sat in silence, eating his dry cereal.

'Of course,' Mrs Jones began. 'you don't have to go into foster care.'

'I can sense what you're going to say.'

'Let me remind you that you are not going to work for us again.'

'Oh.' Alex replied, slightly uncertain of how to feel.

'We may have found someone for you to stay with, but, only on the condition that you stop this childish game that you're playing.'

'Game?'Alex slammed his clenched fists down on the table, causing Mrs Jones' tea to spill slightly. 'The only family I had left died, in this very house. And I want to know why; this is not a game to me. That is not what this is.'

'Then what is this, Alex? Tell me, what are you doing?' Mrs Jones dragged her chair towards him, a look of real concern rested on her face. 'That pain you feel. It won't go away if you find who did this.'

'Only one way to find out if that's true.' Alex excused himself and left the room.

Mrs Jones' eyes rested on the chair in which he had sat and heard him go upstairs. She got up and went over to her handbag, pulled out her phone and dialled. 'Yeah, it's me.'

'What is it?' The voice on the other end said.

'You know what it is. It's him. He's still showing the after-effects.'

'So?'

'So? You did this to him. Now tell me how to fix him.'

'There is no fix to grief or to that level of anger. You have to let nature take its course.'

'The boy's smart and fearless. He'll find out and when he does, you and I know what he'll do.'

That night Alex Rider had a dream. It was a dream of a peculiar, yet familiar nature. He was being guided down a long, bright white hallway, with rooms on either side. The doors of which were pure white, they had small windows allowing only a glance inside. Alex tried to look in but found a hand on his head, forcing him to look forwards.

'Where am I going?' He heard himself say.

'It's a surprise.' A familiar voice replied from behind him.

Alex felt something, a dull pain from within. He felt as if his body no longer belonged to him, he felt as if he were in a car, as a passenger, he had no input as to his destination. He just kept on walking, down the long corridor.

'What if I don't want to?'

'Alex. There's really nothing to be scared of.' The voice replied. 'It's just a little test.'

Alex kept walking. His face was looking down and found his feet without shoes or socks. It was then that he heard it. It was sudden and out of one of the rooms. It was a scream, one, the result, surely of searing pain. Alex's heart was now in his throat. Yet, he kept walking, as if he had heard nothing. Another scream, it was then Alex realised. It was him.

Alex woke with a start. He was screaming, as if he had been stabbed. He was sweating heavily, his hair sticking to his face and neck. He looked up and found Mrs Jones standing, concerned, at his door.

'Are you okay?' She asked.

Alex sat silent.

'You were screaming.' She went on.

'It was nothing.' Alex replied as he moved his head back down to his pillow.

'What was it about?'

Alex was still breathing heavily, his heart thumped against his chest and his mouth was dry. 'Goodnight, Mrs Jones.' He dismissed her without looking up. After a few moments he heard her leave. When she had, he rolled out of bed and paced around his room. It was a dream. He knew it was, but it felt as if it were one that he'd had before. But it was the voice that most unnerved him, it was familiar, unsettling.

'There's nothing to be scared of Alex... just a little test.' The voice echoed, ghostly, in his head.

Without knowing why, Alex went onto his knees and pulled something out from under his bed. It was a book, a homemade picture book; Jack had made it and given to him last Christmas. It had pictures of him and Ian, a few pictures of his parents on their wedding day and finally at the back a few pages dedicated to him and Jack. There were pictures of Christmases and birthdays, trips to the London Dungeon, the London Eye and Stamford Bridge. Without realising it, Alex closed the book and put it away. A single tear trickled down his cheek.

Alex didn't return to bed that night, instead he sat in the silence and dark, waiting for the sun to rise.

Sunday went quickly, Alex spent most of the day of the day in bed, listening to Mrs Jones walk around the house, cooking, cleaning – being Jack. She left food outside his room and he heard her enter a few times, to make sure he was alright. But Alex just stared at the wall, silent and non respondent.

School was rough on the Monday. Mr Blunt's men had done a good job of keeping Jack's death under wraps, the papers had not reported or discovered her death and not even the teachers at school had been informed. Alex had no one to talk to. Mrs Jones brushed off any questions or feelings he had with comments like: "its official business Alex, I can't talk about it.' Or "the investigation is ongoing.''

Alex sat alone in the lunch hall, stewing over a packet of crisps, getting curious and fearful looks around the hall. Word had got round of his little scruff with the bull and suddenly, opinion of him had changed. He was no longer the likeable and unassuming Alex Rider of old; he was now feared and, worst of all, he despised himself. The bell went and Alex finished his crisps and began the journey over to Maths. Alex had just turned down the Maths corridor when he saw her...

Red headed, slim, a cute and boyish face, it was her. It was Jack. Alex began to jog towards the figure in the distance, quickly developing into a sprint, but, the closer he got, the fainter the figure and features became, until, to his sadness, he discovered, a small; slightly surprised, red headed girl. Who looked nothing like Jack. What had he been expecting? He'd seen Jack's body, lying blood soaked, on the floor. He knew her to be dead. Yet, it seemed, somewhere in him, he expected her to just come round the corner or down the stairs, or call him for dinner and they'd go on as if nothing had ever happened.

Alex excused himself and continued on his way to Maths, was he losing his mind? No, he just needed closure, and he'd make sure he'd get it.


	5. STAGE TWO

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**STAGE TWO**

'Just relax, Alex...'

Alex groaned.

'It's okay, this won't hurt a bit...'

Alex couldn't move.

'Open your eyes, Alex...'

Alex refused.

Without warning Alex's eyes were forced open. He was looking up into a bright light, blinding him.

'Thank you, Alex.' An unfamiliar male voice said, though Alex couldn't see the owner.

Alex desperately tried to move his arms. It was like trying to lift a truck and as such, they didn't move.

'I'd like to take this moment to thank you, for your co-operation in this, Alex.' The mystery voice continued.

Somewhere a door opened. Alex heard footsteps, high heels. Someone had entered. Footsteps quickly approached.

'Haven't you started yet?' A female voice of authority began.

'No... I-' The male replied, though no longer being a voice of calm, more one of panic and fear.

'I don't want to hear it!'

'I'll start right away.'

'Make sure you do.' The female replied. 'I don't want any mistakes, not this time!'

'Yes M-'

A loud whistling filled Alex's ears, his mind groaned. The man had said the woman's name, but Alex couldn't focus enough to hear. Alex's eyes were squeezed shut, trying to drown out the sound. Alex was in agony, he went to scream, but couldn't open his mouth. Then, as if nothing had happened, the sound vanished.

'There you go.' The voice said.

Alex opened his eyes. He could see the man now. He had chiselled cheek bones, staring blue eyes and a small scar running down the centre of his forehead, dividing it in two. He wore a Doctor's white coat.

'Hello, there. Are you okay?' The Doctor asked, like a parent asking an injured child.

The Doctor had something in his hand, a syringe, which was sticking out of Alex's arm. A clear liquid was being slowly injected into Alex's veins. While the Doctor held eye contact with Alex. That was when Alex noticed it, just beside the Doctor's head, imprinted on the ceiling, a picture or maybe even a logo. It was a golden diamond, inside a green triangle.

The sting of a needle caused Alex to change his attention back to the doctor. Alex tried to object to the injection. To question what was going on. But slowly, Alex's eyes began to droop, lower and lower, the Doctor's features began to fade, as did the room around him and eventually, Alex was engulfed in darkness.

Alex didn't wake up screaming. In fact, he almost didn't realise he'd woken up at all. He was simply wrapped up in bed, in his Chelsea house. He rolled over and checked his alarm clock. It was half past ten. He was late for school.

'You had a fever.' Mrs Jones' voice began, from across the room. 'I called, you've got the day off.'

'A fever?'

'You were groaning.'

'I feel fine.'

'You slept it off.'

Alex pushed himself up in his bed, so that he could see her. She was standing in her usual black suit, her hands joined in front of her. Though it was her eyes that most fascinated Alex, they never remained fixed on anything. They danced, seeming absent of control, around the room, and never on Alex.

'I had a nightmare.' Alex admitted, feeling like a child.

'I'm sorry to hear that, Alex.'

'It was...' Alex began, but thought better of it. 'It was nothing.'

'Good. I'm glad.' Mrs Jones went to leave but stopped and turned to face Alex, who was still looking at her, for the first time since entering her eyes met his, although only briefly. 'Are you hungry? I could put together something - pancakes?'

Without even considering it Alex replied. 'No. I'm fine.'

Mrs Jones nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Alex slept for another hour after she left, before he rose. Upon going downstairs, Alex discovered that, for the first time in a long time, he was home alone. He called out for Mrs Jones, as if to clarify his assumption, when she didn't reply; which she always did, he knew she'd gone.

Almost without realising it Alex jumped into action. He rushed upstairs and got changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He almost leapt down the stairs and threw on a pair of trainers, he didn't know why, but he knew that he had to get out of the house. He remembered the golden diamond inside the green triangle, and, what's more, he recognised it. But from where?

Less than five minutes later, Alex was racing away from his Chelsea home, on his racing bike and after pulling out onto a busy main road, began cutting with ease through the traffic. Without realising it, he found himself turning off the road and began racing down a back alley. A form of compass from within himself was guiding him. To where, he did not know. Alex continued down the alley and raced out of it and back onto a main street, one, which he was not too familiar with. A driver cursed and blared his horn as Alex pulled out in front of him.

Alex was following his instincts; his gut was telling him where to go; a homing instinct. Had Alex not been so relentlessly focused on the speed of his pedalling, he may have noticed a Black Mazda pulling in and out of traffic, keeping tabs on, but always a safe distance behind Alex. But Alex didn't notice he simply raced on. The traffic lights up ahead signalled red and Alex pulled on his brakes and allowed his bike to stop. However two cars behind, the black Mazda waited, the Driver dressed in a black suit, watched the boy, patient.

A black screen separated the driver from the man in the back of the car. A small window was slid open in the screen and a voice came through.

'Is he on track?' The voice asked.

'Yes. He'll be there soon.' The Driver replied. A screen on the dashboard displayed a small red dot and a beeping was repetitive. Below the red dot a "10m" was shown. The Driver checked that the tracking system was in order - it was.

'Good. He's our best result, yet.'

'Yes Sir.'

The window was slid shut. The Driver continued to keep watch and, as the lights turned to green, he followed as the boy turned right and raced away, with impressive acceleration. The driver slipped the car into fourth gear and it sprinted along.

Alex continued at high speed and found himself going further and further into a section of Chelsea, which he hardly, if ever had been. Small beads of sweat trickled down Alex's face and he wiped them away. The sun was beating down and the day was hot. Something reflected back up from his bike at Alex, but he did his best to ignore it, concentrating instead on his pedalling. He knew that he was getting close, to what he did not know and, all the while, looking out for the symbol, the golden diamond, inside a green triangle. Alex urged himself on and without realising it, he turned left and then a few yards on, a right, another left, and followed by a right and, to his surprise he found himself at what appeared to be a simple garage. One, in which would be found on the side of a house, one, a person may leave their car. It wasn't what he was expecting but, he knew that he was where he was meant to be. Alex dismounted his bike and walked it towards the open garage. Still something reflected up from his bike. He approached the garage. His eyes narrowed; his instincts sharpened and ready for anything. He entered the garage. It was then he noticed the golden diamond inside a green triangle, he had found it. It had been reflecting up at him, while he had been riding. The emblem that he recognised had been on the front of his bike all along. Had that always been there? Alex's eyes narrowed, trying to remember. It was then that the garage door closed behind him. Alex found himself in darkness.

Alex had no time to adjust to the darkness before the floor began to shake. It was what he imagined an earthquake to be. The floor began to move, Alex crouched down and let his bike drop to the floor. The floor was gradually descending down, towards the centre of the earth. But gradually the silence of the garage was replaced with the tapping of computer keyboards, the ringing of telephones and the chatter of people.

Within moments Alex found himself in the middle of a large white room, surrounded by an army of adults sitting, typing at computer screens, all dressed in identical white uniforms. They were talking to each other, trading stats and figures and information of what, Alex did not know. And, most peculiarly, none looked up or even registered that Alex had in fact, entered through the roof.

'Hello?' Alex spoke in barely a mutter. He rose from his crouched position and looked around the room. It was then he noticed, a figure dressed completely in black walking in between the desks and straight towards Alex. Alex recognised the man. He was the Doctor from Alex's dream. The same chiselled cheek bones, the same staring blue eyes, the same scar dividing his forehead in two. He stopped a few steps from Alex and smiled.

'Hello Alex, my name is Doctor Hanson.' He stepped forward and offered a hand, which Alex did not shake, Hanson smiled in response. 'We've been expecting you.' Hanson turned and began to take a few steps away. 'This way please.'

Alex went to take his bike.

'Leave the bike, one of our people will take care of it.'

Alex began to follow Hanson, knowing that any danger he may walk into, he should be able to skilfully fight his way out of.

'What is this place?' Alex asked.

'A research facility.'

'Name?'

'We have many...' Hanson replied, dropping back so that Alex could gain a few places. 'But such information is on a need to know basis.'

Hanson led Alex to a door and ushered Alex through it. And there it was, the long white corridor. Alex found himself walking down the hall, Hanson following close behind him.

'Are you ready for the next stage?'

'What?'

'Stage one is complete. We now begin stage two.'

Something sharp was forced into his neck. It was a needle. And, within moments everything went dark.


	6. THE CAVE

**CHAPTER SIX**

**THE CAVE**

Alex Rider was barely conscious. He could feels himself in the arms of someone with considerable strength. His head thumped aggressively and his eyes winced in pain. Through the slit that his barely-open eye lids made, Alex could see the lights above him. He moved his head and found the face of his carrier. The man was bald and a little overweight, his eyes looked straight ahead.

'This way! Come on!' Alex heard Doctor Hanson ordering.

Alex was fading again. The more he fought, in an attempt to stay awake, the more he seemed to fall back, into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Doctor Hanson led the way down the corridor, looking back occasionally to check on Alex. He was fine – unconscious. Doctor Hanson stopped in front of a door, behind it a plain cell, with a bed and a toilet. He fumbled for his chain of keys in his pocket and after a few attempts found the correct key and opened the door.

'In there, please.' Doctor Hanson said pointing inside the cell.

The man who was carrying Alex was dressed in black and nodded before carrying Alex inside the cell and dumping him onto the bed. He left the cell and Hanson closed the door behind him.

'Brilliant.' Hanson said. 'Right, you can go now.' The man left and Hanson turned on his heel and headed stepped towards the elevator which was directly opposite Alex's cell. He pressed a large red button and the doors slid open. Hanson entered.

'Select destination.' The Elevator's electronic voice asked.

'Specimen One.'

'Destination accepted.'

The elevator began to move sideways, gliding along in-between the walls. The facility was underground; there was only one level below and even that was a secret to most that worked at the facility. The Elevator used voice recognition software, which only allowed those with the highest clearance level (like Hanson) to go where they pleased. Those with lower clearance levels had more limited options, Cell Blocks A to C, the cafeteria, living quarters, research labs and the information room; where Hanson had discovered Alex. Where Hanson was heading, was a place few knew of and even fewer were granted access to. Hanson checked his watch and begun dreading his destination and who awaited him. He began rehearsing his lines in his head. 'I'm really sorry for the disturbance, Sir. No, Sir, I apologise for the disturbance.'

The doors opened and the elevator declared: 'You have arrived at your destination.'

Hanson stepped out into a darkened room. A room so dark and cold, that those who had ever entered referred to it as _The Cave_. There was a small light ahead in the distance, a chair was visible and was, for the moment turned away from Hanson. Other than that the large room appeared quite empty, although it was too dark to tell for sure.

'What?' A cold voice said, echoing in the darkness.

'I'm really apologise for the disturbance.' Hanson wrinkled his nose at the stupidity of his opener. 'What I mean is Sir, is that... well-'

'Spit it out.' The Voice snapped.

'The boy is here.'

'I know he is! I followed him here. I wanted to see if he would remember – he did.'

'I have him in a cell in Block B.'

'Good. Take some blood tests, keep an eye on him, then give him a memory pill and take him home.'

'Very good Sir. For the record, if I may Sir, he is quite extraordinary.'

'Yes. He is.' The voice replied, ending the meeting.

Hanson stepped back into the lift and the doors closed. 'Please select Destination.'

'Block B.'

Alex Rider awoke peacefully. He rolled over and checked his alarm clock. It was two o'clock, he had missed nearly all of school.

'You had a fever?' Mrs Jones began. She was standing by the door.

'I feel fine.'

'You were groaning. I called you're school, you've got the day off.'

Alex continued to lie in his bed. Something about all this felt odd, like Déjà Vu.

'Are you hungry? I could make some pancakes?'

'Yeah... sure.' Alex replied. After a few moments, Alex heard Mrs Jones leave. Alex pushed himself up in his bed and scanned the room. He closed his eyes tightly, in an attempt to remember his dream. Had he had one? He remembered a large room, an army of adults behind computer screens, being carried, bright lights... His head begun to hurt, a loud whistling filled Alex's ears and disabled his mind, for the moment. After a few moments of pain, the noise subsided and the pain ceased.

Alex sat in his bed waiting for the pancakes to arrive. His stomach rumbled and he realised that he could not remember the last time he'd eaten. Mrs Jones entered carrying a tray, containing, pancakes, syrup and orange juice. She set it down on Alex's lap and stood patiently waiting.

'What?' Alex asked.

'I want to see you eat something. You need the strength.'

'Okay?' Alex muttered. He cut off a small slither of a pancake and placed it in his mouth. It was nice and he swallowed it.

'Is it nice?'

'Yeah, it's okay.'

'Okay?' Mrs Jones looked down, seeming slightly hurt.

'No, it's good, tasty.'

'Lovely.' Mrs Jones replied, looking up and giving a beaming smile.

Alex remembered walking around the house that morning, alone. Had that been a dream? 'Mrs Jones, were you here this morning?'

'Yes. It is my job to stay and keep watch over you. I'm not going anywhere.'

'Okay, it's just I had this dream...'

'Yes?' Mrs Jones asked inquisitively.

It was... nothing.'

'Okay. Well listen, I have a few pieces to be getting on with, so I'll leave you in peace. Just give me a call when you're done and I'll come and take you plate.'

Alex nodded. 'It's nice.'

'Thank you.' Mrs Jones replied, almost bowing as she left.

_Strange _Alex thought. And he was the ill one?

Mrs Jones didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, whether she had earlier or not, Alex was still uncertain. Alex sat in his room watching T.V, with the door closed. Occasionally he would hear Mrs Jones cleaning or smell food being cooked or dishes being put away and occasionally he would hear her approach his closed door, but never enter.

At six o'clock Mrs Jones called Alex for dinner, he turned off his T.V and left his room. Waiting in the dining room was Mrs Jones, the table was neatly laid and she was sitting rather nicely at the opposite end to where Alex's bowl had been set for him. The food smelled and looked good. She had made a Roast Dinner, and very well it seemed.

'Good evening, Alex. Please sit down.'

Alex did.

Mrs Jones sat watching him for a few moments. 'Please eat.'

Alex began to eat.

'Would you like a drink?'

'Sure, coke?'

'Fine.' Mrs Jones rose from her chair and went out to the kitchen before bringing a can of coke and a glass promptly back. She placed the glass next to Alex and struggled to open the can.

'Here.' Alex said, taking the can from her. He opened it and the sugary, black contents went over him.

'Oh, Alex I'm sorry, I'll get you a towel.'

Mrs Jones rushed out and retrieved a towel from the kitchen. Alex took it and begun mopping up the liquid, which had also spilt out onto the table.

'I really am so, so sorry.'

'That's alright.'

'I can't apologise enough. I must have shaken it.'

'It is fine, worse things have happened, I'm sure I'll live.'

Mrs Jones poured the remainder of the coke into a glass and returned back to her seat.

'So, do you ever go to work?'

'For present this is my job, keeping an eye on you.'

'Aren't you a bit old to be a baby sitter?'

Mrs Jones laughed a little too hard and fake.

The rest of the meal went by slowly, the pair sat in silence and the clock ticked on. At half past six, the phone rang. Mrs Jones excused herself and answered it.

A woman was in _The Cave, _she stood two meters away from the chair, which was turned away from her. Unless told otherwise, no one was allowed to be closer than two metres to the chair, or to who sat in it.

The woman had dark hair and was simply known as Mrs S. She held a mobile phone up to her ear. 'How is he?'

'He's doing well. He doesn't seem to remember any of this morning.'

'Good. We took some tests whilst he was here. They all came back good; he's growing, developing and improving.'

'That's good, Mrs S. Can I speak to him?'

Mrs S held the phone away from her ear and turned to face the chair. 'Specimen One? She wants to know if she can speak to you.'

'No.' Specimen One replied.

'He doesn't want to speak with you. But compliments you on the job you're doing.' Mrs S added on the phone. 'Yes, good evening Mrs Jones.' Mrs S hung up the phone.

'I never complimented her.' Specimen One added.

Specimen One began to cough fiercely and almost without control, after a few deep and heavy coughs, Mrs S noticed a great blob of saliva being spat from the occupier of the chair and landed agonisingly close to her shoe. 'Retrieve Doctor Hanson, I want my medicine now.' Specimen One demanded.

'Yes Sir.' Mrs S replied before departing.

Specimen One liked his lips, his mind thinking of, as always, Alex Rider. 'The boy is quite unique. He's quite the little miracle. Yet again so am I.' He placed his pale, ghost-like hand on the arm of his chair and tapped his skinny fingers rhythmically on the arm, gently humming to himself.


	7. TRISECTOR

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**TRISECTOR**

Later that night, Alex found himself, on his bed, falling in and out of sleep. It was eleven o'clock when he eventually fell into a dream.

And there it was again – the long, white corridor. He was being carried by a tall, bald man.

'This way! Come on!' He heard Hanson declare.

Alex tried to hold onto the dream, it was familiar, it felt like a memory. However darkness soon overcame him and he was suddenly elsewhere.

He was in his room, fully dressed and staring out at the starry sky. He felt something, warmth, peace. Like he did before...

'Alex.' A voice said.

He turned and found the familiar face of Jack Starbright.

'Yeah?' Alex asked.

'There's someone here to see you.'

'Who?'

'Blunt.'

'What does he want?'

'He wouldn't say.' Jack took a step into the room. 'He said it's something that would greatly interest you.'

'Fine.' Alex nodded and followed Jack out of the room.

Mr Blunt and Mrs Jones were waiting in the living room, downstairs. They each had an untouched cup of tea in front of them, on the coffee table, and neither were sitting down.

'Please, take a seat.' Blunt said, upon Alex's entry.

It interested Alex, how, despite it being Alex and Jack's home, Blunt possessed the ability to appear to have ownership over anything he wanted. Alex had come to know that too well, and it was for that reason that Alex replied. 'I'd rather stand.'

'Very well.' Blunt turned to Mrs Jones, who stepped forward.

'We have a unique opportunity that we would like for you to consider.'

'Let me guess, save the world again?' Alex replied with bite.

'Actually, this would be quite the opposite. If things go as planned, you won't be saving the world ever again.'

Alex woke up cold. He'd dreamt of Jack, alive, for a change. It felt nice, warm and familiar. It was ten o'clock, he felt fine and he had not been woken for school. He rolled out of bed, pulled on a nearby pair of jeans and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He approached the door and opened it.

'Morning Alex.' Mrs Jones said, standing just outside, as if she had been waiting for some considerable time.

'Hi. I'm late for school.'

'You're not going to school for the foreseeable future.'

'Why not?'

'You have not been yourself of late and after your being ill yesterday; we felt it best to keep as close an eye on you as possible.'

'That's not fair, I want to see my friends, learn and-'

'Beat people up?'

'Before Jack died, when were you last here?' Alex asked.

'Why?'

'Because I want to know.'

'I'm afraid, I do not remember.'

'Because I seem to remember, soon before Jack died, you and Blunt waiting for me downstairs and you had an opportunity that you wished to discuss with me.'

'Yes that's right. But you refused. You were not interested in anything that we had to say.'

'No I remember being quite interested; as it was implied that I wouldn't have to work for the likes of you again.'

'Well despite what you remember feeling, you made your decision and it was "no."'

'What was the opportunity?'

'Pardon?'

'What was the opportunity? I want to reconsider.'

'Well I'm not at liberty to discuss the offer with you.'

'Who is?'

'Blunt.'

'Take me to him. I'm not going to school and I've got nothing better to do. Take me.'

'I'll make some calls and see if it's an appropriate time.'

'Good. I'll be waiting.'

Mrs Jones ordered a car whilst Alex took a shower and a half hour later they were driving across London. Mrs Jones sat in the front seat and Alex in the back. The journey was filled with silence. The journey seemed long, but eventually they arrived at the Royal and General Bank, climbed out of the car, entered the bank and rode the lift up to Blunt's office. They entered, still without having said two words to each other.

Blunt was having his lunch when they entered; he had a napkin tucked into his collar and a sandwich in his hands. He looked up, put his sandwich down and seem rather annoyed.

'Alex, it is always a pleasure.' Blunt said in as unwelcoming a tone as a person could muster.

'Shut up!' Alex snapped, he wanted to yell at Blunt; air all his anger and all the confusion he'd encountered from recent dreams, or memories. But something held him back, the anger seemed to almost evaporate from him and he found himself saying. 'I'm sorry for yelling Mr Blunt, it won't happen again.'

'Well that's quite alright Alex.' Blunt replied pulling off his napkin. Mrs Jones joined Mr Blunt behind his desk and begun to chew on a peppermint.

'If I may sir, I have a few questions to ask?' Alex asked in an almost shy manner. He found himself looking down at his shoes, like a child who'd been disciplined.

'Oh, and what is that Alex?' Blunt replied.

'I had a dream... it's probably nothing, but, all the same. I dreamt that you and Mrs Jones had some form of offer for me – an opportunity you said.'

'Ah yes, that.' Blunt replied rising from his seat and walking round to the front of his desk. 'We were approached by a science company called Trisector, who works with the government. They had developed this process in which they could take the DNA from anyone, you, for example and create from it two exact replicas, leaving the original, in this case you, unharmed. In short Alex, instead of having to take you out of school and have you risk your life gallivanting round the world for the likes of us, we would send one of your clones – if you will.'

'These clones,' Alex began. 'Would they have all of my abilities, my martial arts, and my foreign languages?'

'An exact replica, so good, that no one would be able to tell the difference between you and the clone, not even the clone itself would know. But you didn't want any of it.'

'Oh, why's that Mr Blunt?'

'Well Alex.' Said Blunt stepping closer and placing his hand on Alex's left shoulder and looking deeply into his eyes. 'It brought up memories of Project Gemini. Naturally you said no, a shame really because by God, the use we could have had for two more of you. As you probably remember us saying, you'd never have had to save the world again.' Blunt removed his hand and retook his seat, behind his desk. 'So, it wasn't some dream Alex, it was a memory; just so you know.'

'Oh, is there any possibility that I could reconsider? I mean if it meant that I'd never have to work for you again and save the world?'

'If you'd wish, we could take you down there right now?' Blunt said, with an air of excitement coming through his voice.

'Yeah, it wouldn't hurt to at least look, right?

'Right you are Alex. Right you are.'

Alex sat waiting, another question was weighing him down and somehow, Blunt knew this.

'Is there anything else, Alex? Blunt asked, replacing his napkin into his collar.

'Yes Sir, how close are you to finding Jack's killer?'

'Although it is official business and even I am not at liberty to tell you, however, I can promise you this, certain things will come to light very soon.'

'Okay Sir. Thank you, Sir. When can we leave for Trisector?'

'Just as soon as I've finished my Tuna melt.'

Alex sat and waited in Blunt's office for him to finish his lunch and, although he was offered some food, Alex declined. Mrs Jones stood just behind Blunt, looking always dead ahead, unflinching and barely blinking. Alex found himself trying to put together fragments of memory and wondered why it seemed so hard to remember previous events. His trail of thought was broken when he was ushered up and he followed Blunt and Mrs Jones to the lift, and so began their journey to Trisector.

In _The Cave, _Hanson had laid a tray across the arms of the chair. He'd been given permission to approach the chair and, in doing so, Specimen One. On the tray there was all manner of medical equipment, from syringes to tablets and different skin creams. Hanson took two tablets into his hand and began hovering over Specimen One's dried lips, waiting for them to open.

'I can do it!' Specimen One snapped.

'Yes Sir.' Hanson replied, shaking a little.

Specimen One held out his hand and Hanson dropped the pills into them. Specimen One's pale hands were steady as he slowly manoeuvred it over to his mouth and dropped the pills in. Hanson backed away slightly, the smell coming from Specimen One's mouth was revolting and, as always, Hanson tried not to look at the head of his patient.

Hanson always thought that it looked alien. The skin seemed so thin, that it may as well have not existed and, in actual fact, the skin did not cover all areas of the body. There was a small section of the bald, pasty white head which showed pure skull, and had an area of dry blood circling it.

'What?' Snapped his patient.

Hanson had been staring at the bare skull and felt himself shrink and look away. 'Nothing Sir, I'm just staggered by the miracle that is you.'

'Is that so?' Specimen One asked, though disbelieving him.

Somewhere in the distance an electronic voice sounded. 'You have reached your destination.'

'Sir?' A voice sounded through the darkness. Someone had entered the cave.

'Yes?' Specimen One asked.

'It's Mrs S, Sir. I've just got news from the Information Room. The boy is on his way.'

'Excellent. I think it's time we met.' Specimen One declared, liking his lips.

'Very good, Sir.'

Hanson was waiting in the Information Room, as the lift came down, carrying a black car, inside which sat Alex Rider, Mrs Jones and Mr Blunt. The lift stopped on the ground and the trio stepped out of the car, the driver however, remained inside.

'Good afternoon.' Hanson said stepping forward before shaking Mrs Jones' and Mr Blunt's hands. To Alex however, he offered a high-five. Alex rejected him. 'So, Mr Rider, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Doctor Hanson. I'm sorry that you rejected my first invitation.' He waited for Alex to respond - he didn't.

'Alex is reconsidering.' Blunt offered.

'Excellent.' Hanson replied. 'First of all we need to run some tests, as there is no point getting Alex's hopes up and we find that he can't go through the procedure.'

'Why wouldn't I be able to?' Alex replied, scanning the room.

He'd been there before, he knew it. He recognised the confused feeling in his stomach as countless adults in identical white uniforms, sat behind computer screens continuously typing, without rest, and muttering stats and figures to one and other. However, Alex found something equally strange, something that made him shake slightly, with an emotion close to fear. The workers, continuously tapping at the keyboards, were all devoid any of any hair and eyebrows, and eyes, and noses, they seemed to only have mouths and ears.

'Beautiful aren't they?' Hanson asked.

'They're something alright.' Alex muttered in response.

'I'll explain all on the way.' Hanson added, before spinning on his heel and leading the way across the room. 'This is the Information Room. These are our employees.'

'Are they human?' Alex asked.

'As human as me or you, Alex.' Hanson opened a door for them and Alex walked through it, followed by Jones and Blunt.

Alex found himself in a long, blindingly white hallway. He recognised it. A knot became tight in his stomach. His instincts were telling him that something was wrong. Hanson brushed past Alex.

'This way, everyone.' Hanson said, with a hint of glee.

'So this place is a cloning facility?'

'Yes essentially.' Hanson replied. 'We are a privately funded cooperation, that work in the field of cloning.'

'Who do you clone?'

'Anyone who is either exceptionally talented; so talented, that the world would benefit from having two or anyone who has the money. A celebrity for instance, may approach us to clone them, for purposes such as sending the clone to public appearances for them. In your case, a replica of you would allow for you to live a normal life, with your clone jetting of around the world and saving the day.'

'I was told that you do two clones?'

'Yes, for every procedure, we make two clones. In case one...'

'Dies?' Alex asked.

'Expires, may be a more respectful term.' Hanson added, before stopping in front of an elevator. He pushed a large red button. The door opened. Hanson turned to Alex. 'If you would enter the elevator and you will be taken to our medical bay, where our excellent Doctors will take some tests.'

Alex nodded. 'What are you, Mrs Jones and Mr Blunt, going to do?'

'We have some things to discuss.' Hanson replied. 'Come on chop, chop, time is of the essence.'

Alex nodded, before looking towards Jones and Blunt. They'd protect him from danger, he trusted them enough to think that they' step forward at a time like this, if needs be. 'Alright.' Alex answered, before stepping into the elevator.

The elevator doors closed as soon as Alex entered, and Hanson heard the elevator begin to travel towards its destination.

Specimen One was waiting patiently in _The Cave._ His chair, which he sat in, was at the far end of the room, and was turned towards the elevator doors. Though, if anyone were to enter the room, they would only just be able to make out the top of his pure white head, as a thin ray of light shone from above, down onto it. After a few moments, Specimen One heard the elevator arrive and the doors slide open.

'You have reached your destination.' The electronic voice declared.

Specimen One saw him enter the room, he was just as he remembered him. Alex Rider had not changed one bit.

'Hello?' Alex called out. Alex's eyes scanned the room and found something in the distance; a thin ray of light highlighted what appeared to be a person's head; but looked more like a skull. 'Hello?' Alex called, now directing his voice at the possible person. 'I'm lost... I think.'

Specimen One was breathless, he'd waited for this moment for so long, he was about to destroy Alex Rider. Not just kill him, but tear out his heart and obliterate his soul. 'Help me...' Specimen One called out, attempting to sound in pain as possible.

Alex began sprinting as soon as he'd heard the voice, of what sounded to be an old man. The room was large and it took Alex several moments to get even half way across.

'Lights!' Specimen One screamed.

Alex Rider stopped as soon as soon as he'd heard the order. A buzzing sound filled the room, followed with a piercing bright light. As Alex's eyes adjusted to the sudden change in brightness, he heard the sound of an electronically charged wheelchair coming towards him. Alex opened his eyes and found himself short of breath. For what he was seeing was impossible.

The body that occupied the wheelchair was incredibly thin, it appeared to be more skeleton than person, and his face was heavily scarred and had been, at some point, melted, to the extent that an area of the person's skull was showing, where there appeared to be a lack of skin. The body's fingernails were perfectly manicured and evil eyes were hidden behind red-tinted spectacles.

'Impossible...' Alex muttered in barely a whisper.

'Nice to see you again, Alex Rider.' Dr Hugo Grief replied.


End file.
